Watch Over You

Leon Scott Kennedy

The banging on the door never stopped. She covered her ears, begging for the noise to stop. She tried to be as quiet as possible while she continued to hide underneath the desk. She didn't know what to do. Her thoughts ran wild. At that point, all she could think about was not coming face-to-face with another one of those things. She had to get out of the room and out of the police station, but there was nowhere to go. With shaky hands, she checked the magazine of the handgun. Only five bullets left. There were too many of those things and if she did try to outrun them, she'd most likely wouldn't make it out alive. She was afraid, something she hadn't felt for a very long time. She hated being afraid.

It seemed like hours had passed. There was no point in hiding underneath the desk so she walked around the room cautiously, trying to find something that might actually help her get through this ordeal. She rummaged the desk again, but there was nothing useful. There was a small storage room at the side, but there were only boxes filled with old papers and case files. She went back to the boards, looking through the newspaper clippings again. This time, all she saw were bold, red marks circled on various criminals: robbers, abusers and rapists. She scowled at the posters. She couldn't help but tear one of the posters away in a sudden fit of rage. She couldn't stop herself from thinking back to the past again — the reason why she wanted to become a journalist. She calmed herself down and reminded herself of the situation at hand.

The lights suddenly went off and she screamed. She covered her mouth quickly, realising her mistake. She then scrambled to find a light source, walking in small steps to avoid tripping over her feet. The place was so eerily dark that it was almost impossible to see her hands in front of her. She successfully made her way to the wall and prayed that she'd find the light switch. It was the longest minute she had ever experienced, apart from being chilled to the bones. Once the lights flickered on, she screamed again. She swore she saw a dark figure at the end of the room. Turns out, it was only a coat rack. I just can't catch a goddamn break, she cursed mentally as she tried to control her breathing.

She hadn't realised that the banging on the door had ceased. The door handle suddenly turned, like it was being forced open by someone. She stepped away, reaching for her handgun. She aimed at the door with her finger on the trigger. Oh God, oh God. The door slowly opened and she was about to fire when the man raised his hands up in defence. A second later and he would've been injured, or dead.

"Easy! I'm here to help you," he said, slowly approaching her.

She lowered the gun immediately. She had no idea who he was, but she was just glad to find another living person. She immediately hugged him. The man was surprised by the sudden hug, but he returned the embrace soon after. He knew she must've felt deathly afraid being on her own.

"It's okay," he whispered in an attempt to calm her down. "Hey, don't be scared."

She pulled away from him all of a sudden as if snapping out of a trance. "S-sorry."

She had a sheepish smile on her face. Hugging a stranger was probably the weirdest way she'd greeted someone. He offered her a warm smile.

"My name's Leon S. Kennedy."

"Juliet. Juliet McKenzie," she introduced next, finally taking a good look at his face.

Leon looked no more than twenty, and his eyes were unmistakably blue and innocent. He was wearing a t-shirt, jeans and a jacket which was slightly bloodied. Juliet couldn't take her eyes off of him. He was cute, no doubt. She would've definitely preferred to have met him under different circumstances, but she was just glad he found her.

"Juliet? Hey, are you hurt?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

She realised she had zoned off. She shook her head. "I-I'm fine. What happened? How'd you get in here? Those things are everywhere and they..." she trailed off, shutting out the gory images in her mind.

"Yeah, there were a lot of them outside, but don't worry. I won't let them get to you," he said determinedly. "We should probably get out of here."

"Okay, but I need to find my senior journalist first. I know he's somewhere in this building. I was supposed to meet him, but I haven't seen him yet," she said. "I can't just leave him alone."

"You're a journalist?" he asked curiously.

"Intern journalist," she answered half-heartedly. "Today was supposed to be my first day here. I guess I never got to do my job."

"Can you believe me if I said it's my first day on the job as well?"

Juliet raised her eyebrow. "You're a policeman? No way."

"Way."

They laughed, forgetting about the horrors outside for a brief moment.

"Where's your uniform then?" she asked, curious as to why he was still wearing street clothes.

He scratched the back of his head. "I, uh, came late for work. I was supposed to start a week ago, but I got a call saying to stay away. Didn't really thought much about it. Anyway, we should start looking for your senior journalist." 

"You'd help me?" she asked.

With a grin on his face, he replied, "Of course. I'm still a cop, aren't I?"

She felt at ease having Leon beside her. She nodded in appreciation.

"You and me, we'll stick together. I'll protect you. That's a promise."

"A Kennedy promise?"

"A Kennedy promise."